The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 381: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

350 REYNOLDS’ WORKS ‘‘ And where do you come from? ”’ inquired Mrs. Smedley, who had leisure to observe the care-worn, haggard appearance of the Burker, as well as to judge that he was sinking with fatigue. ‘‘ Ah! where do I come from? That’s the question,” he responded, with a certain degree of rough bitterness in his tone. ‘‘ Wheresomever there’s a quiet ditch that a man may lay down in when he’s got no bed, wheresomever there’s a lonesome haystack that a houseless wanderer may snatch a snooze under, wheresomever there’s fields and woods and all sorts of unfrequented places as far as possible from the towns and villages which a chap doesn’t dare enter for fear of seeing,a printed description of hisself with ‘ A Hundred Pound Reward’ in big letters a-top, posted up agin the walls, there’s the places from which I come.”’ Having concluded this piece of eloquence after his own fashion, the Burker looked Mrs. Smedley very hard in the - face for nearly a minute, as much as to say, “‘ Well, what do you think of that? ’’ and then he brewed himself a tum- bler of spirits and water, which he proceeded to drink at a more moderate rate than the previous one. ‘Perhaps you would like something to eat?” suggested Mrs. Smedley. ‘“ Well, now you mention it, I think I should like summut,”’ answered the Burker; ‘‘ though only a minute back I fancied I was past eating, for I ain’t broke my fast since eight o’clock this morning, and then I should have got nuffin if I hadn’t gived a boy a couple of taps on the head to make him sur- render a wedge of bread and cheese he was a-breakfasting on as he went to his work.”’ Mrs. Smedley proceeded to the larder, whence she quickly returned with some cold beef, bread, and pickles, and the Burker, falling to, speedily made a meal that would have sufficed for half a dozen ordinary appetites. Another tumbler was produced, and Mrs. Smedley joined him in the drinking department. ‘‘ And where’s Jack?” he inquired, in the midst of his repast. “ Jack’s at Liverpool,’’ rejoined Mrs. Smedley, and she explained the object of his mission, not forgetting to add her knowledge of its success, so far as that the phial of poison was conveyed to her mother’s hand. CORME DOO KS (E(0)